


james rodriguez

by thechickandtheduck



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Set after 3x11, football references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechickandtheduck/pseuds/thechickandtheduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Jemma and Lance watch football together. Sometimes, Jemma invites people to join them.</p><p>Lance does not like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	james rodriguez

When Jemma finally makes it to the break room, Hunter is already there. He’s sitting in the couch, eyes on the screen in front of him and a look of concentration on his face. He’s wearing a football jersey, and it takes Jemma no time to realise it’s the Colombia national team football shirt. He’s too pale for that much yellow. “Did you get that while you were away on the mission?” she asks him, and he only jumps a little at the sound of her voice, but it’s clear she startled him.

 

“I sure did. _James Rodriguez_ ,” he says, pointing to the back of the shirt with his finger. He moves a little to make room for her on the couch, but Jemma stays put. “Come on, then,” he says, “you’re already late. It’s almost starting.”

 

When she doesn’t move again, he takes his eyes off the screen to look at her. “What?” he asks.

 

“I did a thing.”

 

“Oh, no. The game is about to start. No _things_.”

 

“Just hear me out,” Jemma starts, but then Lincoln appears behind her, so she changes her tune. “Lincoln,” she says cheerfully, “I’m glad you made it.”

 

“He made it? What’s going on?” Hunter asks, and honestly, he sounds quite rude and Lincoln is already looking like he regrets coming, so she sends a look Hunter’s way, a look that clearly indicates _don’t start_. But Hunter is, of course, a ten years old, so he doesn’t seem to get it or maybe he just doesn’t care, because he says “Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but a game is about to start here, so…”

 

“So,” Jemma continues, “I just found out Lincoln likes football. Isn’t that great? I invited him to watch with us.”

 

“You like football?” Hunter asks Lincoln, but before he answers, he asks again, using an obnoxious american accent “Do you like soccer?”

 

“I do,” Lincoln answers, and Jemma is surprised at how calm he sounds. She sort of wants to be offended on his behalf, but she choses to focus back on Hunter. “Isn’t that great?”

 

“Yep. That sounds great,” he says, not one bit amused. An awkward silence falls between the three of them, so Jemma looks at Hunter pointedly. “What team do you like?” he asks, and this time he sounds actually interested, although he’s probably faking it.

 

“Well, I like Real Madrid,” he says, and Hunter looks like he sorts of accepts that, which is a victory to Jemma. “I also like Chelsea.”

 

_Oh, well._

 

“Okay, that’s it. I can’t work with that,” Hunter says, looking back at Jemma with a disgusted frown on his face. “ _Chelsea_? Seriously, Simmons? What are you trying to accomplish here?”

 

Jemma sighs and turns to Lincoln, ready to apologize, but he waves a hand at her. “Don’t worry. It was nice of you to invite me, but maybe some other time.”

 

“No, Hunter is just being a baby,” Jemma says and, on cue, Hunter makes an offended noise that no kid older than two would ever make. “Why don’t you go get us some beers?”

 

Lincoln doesn’t sound too convinced with that plan, but he nods at her and leaves the room. Jemma supposes he just wants to get away from Hunter. She can relate.

 

“Why do you have to be so rude?” she asks annoyed at the same time Hunter says “Why do you have to invite people to our thing?”

 

Jemma is truly ready to fight it off with Hunter, because he is being silly, but something he said catches her off guard and she softens a little. “Aw, you think of this as our thing?”

 

“What?”

 

“You just said…”

 

“I know what I just said. It’s just a way of speaking. Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he sounds dismissive, but Jemma knows she caught him. She gives him a big smile, and Hunter rolls his eyes at her. “Stop. Why did you invite Lincoln here?”

 

“Do you not like Lincoln?”

 

“I like Lincoln alright. But we don’t need more people here distracting us from the game,” he says, and when he looks back at the television, he lets out a gasp. He turns abruptly to Jemma again, and he starts, his tone uneven, “The teams are already out! I missed the lineups! You made me miss the lineups!”

 

“Quit being a baby,” she says, finally joining him on the couch. “Listen, Lincoln is going to be back at any moment, and I want you to be nice.”

 

“I’m nice!”

 

“Hunter, I’m serious!” she says, her voice louder than she intended to. This seems to catch Hunter attention, who fixes his gaze on her, inquisitive.

 

“Why is this so important to you?”

 

“Is not,” she says. But it’s a lie, and Hunter knows it and he knows she knows he knows it. So, she might as well be honest.

 

“Listen, when I came back from Hydra I was feeling a bit lonely. And I didn’t feel like the people who knew me wanted to be around me. And,” she starts, before Hunter can interrupt her, “and maybe that was just me, or maybe it was just the truth, it doesn’t matter. I felt like that. And then you invited me to watch a game with with, and it was awful. You were the worst. Did not stop talking for a second,” she says, and she supposes she should sound irritated, but she doesn’t. “But it felt nice. It felt like I could just be. And, I don’t know, Lincoln lost a lot of people and he is a nice guy, and I just thought it might be nice for him to spend some time doing nothing, getting to know us. Maybe it’s stupid.”

 

“It’s not,” Hunter tells her, and his voice is soft. He takes a moment to think and when it seems he’s made up his mind and is about to expand on his answer, something behind her catches his attention. His face in sot serious anymore, and he says, loudly, “Mate, come on, hurry. It’s starting.”

 

Jemma looks behind her and sees Lincoln, looking surprised and unconvinced. Hunter must notice the same, because he continues, “No bad blood between us, _amigo_. You like a shitty team, it happens. Come on, bring the beer already and sit with us.”

 

Lincoln hands a beer to Jemma, and then one to Hunter, and makes to sit on the couch,on the space between Jemma and the armchair. “No, no, my man,” Hunter says before he can sit there, “this is our couch. If you behave, maybe you’ll earn some front couch privileges. We shall see.”

 

Somehow Hunter’s teasing seems to relax Lincoln, and he smiles for the first time of the evening. “Hey,” Hunter calls to him once he’s seated on the little couch, “ _James Rodriguez_ ,” he says, pointing to the back of his shirt.

 

“He’s really good.”

 

“ _Really good?_ Pff, Simmons, do you hear this guy? _Really good_ , what a joke,” Hunter uses his annoyed voice, but not his _for real annoyed voice_ , and Jemma can’t help but smile a little.

 

This may just work out.

 

“I mean,” Lincoln answers, and he sounds playful, “he’s good, but is he as good as Hazard?”

  
Yeah, it is definitely going to work.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a silly thing, because this show refuses to give me some Simmons/Hunter brotp scenes and I am not giving up. But, I could also get on board with some Lincoln/Jemma brotp, so keep the scenes coming.  
> Also, James Rodriguez is an amazing football player, I hear you, Hunter.


End file.
